I'm not dead...yet... Never died. A foolish childhood fantasy...

I wanted to be superman but I'm not.  I thought I was a dead man walking but I wasn't.  I've always been very alive, yet vulnerable, as are all non-comic humans... 

Dead man walking was a childhood fantasy of a boy running away from an extremely difficult situation, beyond his control.  Very little difference between leaving and dying...  The difference is that death in this human dimension is permanent.  When you leave, when you run away, you can always run back.  Aside from all the many different forms of suicide that exist (smoking and driving recklessly and injesting things you know can harm you are forms of suicide; one can call them slow suicide) there is nothing we can do that guarrantees we won't return one day.  How we experience life or how we experience ourselves changes over time.  Maybe we realize we're no longer that child in that situation we must escape.  The language changes with the perspective, with the experience.  

I'm not a dead man walking.  I wished I were dead.  And I was afraid of what seemed like the perpetual imminence of death.  I've always been very alive, very vital; a very feeling human being.  Maybe I dreamed of not feeling.  However, in as much as I may have dreamed of numbing myself, of not feeling or reacting, I still felt.  I never learned to control the situation or make the horrible situation into an acceptable situation.  I couldn't prevent the death of my father or the home-life situation from becoming what it became.  I was only 4.5-years-old when he died.  I was 12-years-old when I learned that I inhereted his disease and that I must have my colon removed.  Had it been within my power of deciding, I would have told the specialists and my mother that I wouldn't have the surgery the following year...  Maybe I would have opted for dying one day.  

I'm not dead.  I never died.  I couldn't take my life, even if I wanted to.  

But my life is taking me.  It was always taking me...

When I leaned over that abyss into the unknown of the new world, my new life called Mexico, I thought I had symbolically killed myself.  Yes, I had finally succeeded in running away.  And, maybe I killed my physical past and my historical past entered into a gradual fading away.  But, I continued on the same constant plain...  I'm the same person, yet evolving, aumenting experience and skills.  But, I'm still that same living person.  That same living-dying person.

You aren't dead until you're dead.  But maybe you are dying.  Maybe there are irreversables in this lifetime, such as the illness I inhereted from my father.  I've been fighting it for the past few years.  Maybe I thought there were miracles we could create with intelligent/conscious diets through researching.  And, maybe I encounted some of those miracles.  However, I do believe that we all have a clock ticking.  One day we will awaken to the alarm and find that this dream is over.  

Lately I've been telling myself not to go back in the past.  However, the problem I've encountered is that some aspects of the past are inextricably attached to our present and our future, such as what we injested as children and the long-term repercussions for our health, especially if we have blah blah blah on our chromosome 5 that de-activates tumor self-destruct button...  Did you know that gene experts can read your the placement of the genome on your chromosome 5 and tell you how, when and where you will become ill?  My genome was placed differently than that of my sister and my two cousins because my polyps didn't disappear, I developed osteomas and fibrosis and didn't develop thyroid cancer or desmoid tumors...  Did you know that FAP/Gardners Syndrome also places us at risk of brain tumors (like the one that killed my cousin Stacy), pancreatic, small bowel, stomach and bladder cancer?  As I said in 1996, "they know so little about FAP/Gardners Syndrome.  But what I'm realizing is that they know that there is much more to come..."  Yesterday I read in the Stanford Medical Cancer Institute webside that what I suspected in 1996 and what the American Medical Association negated, is verified today...  

31 years after my baptism by fire initiation into the true FAP experience we still find ourselves without being able to alter genes to save our children from "unnecessary" surgeries and "unnecessary" suffering.  Yes, we can read the genes to rescue our children from suffering the experience of enemas and sigmoidescopes.  However, who is born FAP is born FAP with all the wonderful life experience.

I'm sorry if it seems this has gone sour.  It's not true.  I'm typing while lying in bed.  There are things I must do. But I don't have the energy to do them.

Fortunately, I'm not the FAP person suffering his 17th or 33rd surgery.  I've recently met them on various Facebook groups...  I've learned a lot and hopefully have shared some interesting information with them...  One man was first diagnosed with FAP at the age of 50.  I didn't know they lived undiagnosed that long!  But it turns out that there is a group of FAP genetics that shows late in life.  I also learned that 30% are "new" cases; meaning that they didn't have a family history.  But, now they will create a new FAP family history with their offspring.  Today, checking a young adult for polyps in their colon does not guarrantee that they are free of the gene, since they may not show until middle age... So, that doesn't protect their children who will not be tested. 

No, this is not about FAP or Gardner's Syndrome.  It is about the difference of being alive and being dead.  The question is about quality of life.  It's about what is within your control and what is beyond your control.  When you are dead... well, there is nothing you can do, is there?  But when you are alive?

It depends upon the stage of your life, your family's economic situation, the socio-political situation of the community, region or country within which you live.  When you are a child...

I stored all of my original dead man walking writings because they were very personal...  No.  Yes.  But, that wasn't the whole issue.  It was because I had planned differently for the blog than how it turned out.  I thought I was a better writer than I realized I truly was.  I thought there was something inspirational to share with others.  But, the truth is that the story became more a diatribe... an "apology" not as in saying "I'm sorry" but as is meant philosophically, literally or politically.  An explanation of "why"?  As if I was still seeking understanding from someone.  How can I inspire someone from whom I'm seeking understanding?

And why seek someone's understanding? Why explain? And why apologize?

Going back in the past does not change anything.  It may help you forgive by understanding :-)  It may help you accept.  But it doesn't change the course of your life between the events and the day you decide to return.

The relationships we developed or we destroyed or that never existed remain the same regardless of going back in the past.  Most people can't understand or don't wish to understand or don't have the time or energy for understanding.  And maybe they aren't truly that valuable in our lives for making such an effort and for possibly wasting so much time.  

The relationships developed as they developed, be it part of our destiny or be it part of the nature of the events/circumstances/family structures or the nature of those relationships and their needs.  

I imagine the best relationships developed without reason just as did the worst ones. 

For instance; why did my Uncle Stan physically abuse me when his only brother (my father) was dying in Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center in New York City?

I don't know.  And I never would have had the guts to ask him had he lived long enough for me to have asked him that today...  And he may not have been able to been honest enough or strong enough to be sincere and answer that question.  I was always afraid of him.  

He's dead.  There is nothing anyone can do.  The event was and helped shape me.  What can you do?  But the relationship was born and maintained as it was maintained.  I was just a kid; 4.5 years old and growing.  What could I do?  

I didn't choose the style of relationship.  I didn't choose my father's illness and sudden death and all those repercussions.  I didn't choose my mother's giving my uncle $40,000 of the death insurance money that would help pay for season Giants and Knicks tickets and, private schools and giant bar and bat mitzvahs and trips to Italy for my cousins while we received their hand-me-downs and I was called "Poor Boy" in 7th and 8th grade... 

And how would things been had it been Stanley who died first and not my father?  Imagine that Momma's and Grandmama's boy Seth, Mr. Superior.  Had the cards been turned... But, I'm sure my father wouldn't have done to you what your father did to us... 

And I wonder what price my Uncle paid for his way of relating to his deceased brother's family and why he related to us that way.

A friend of mine says, "Forgive your Uncle so that he can finally rest."  And I wonder, "why should I do him that favor?"  

Hell is the life we create for ourselves... 

or maybe not.  

I didn't kill my father and I wasn't my uncle's size for inviting him into a power struggle with me.  Did he hate his younger brother so much, even after death that he would do what he did to us?  

I wonder what Stacey knew... I even wonder what Elise knew.  Maybe Stacy will share with me one day.  I think Elise suffered much. It is very clear in how she lived.  I wouldn't ask her, since I'm sure she lives better in denile without having to go back into that hell...  And if my uncle is suffering.  Let him suffer.  

I believe in a strange way, that we can change our courses in death as in life... We can continue making decisions or better decisions for that matter.  We can still share with the living and help them continue evolving or producing, even if that means we can help them die...  

If you were reading this blog 2 years ago, you would have seen the photo I took of my grandfather in my mother-in-law's kitchen although my grandfather died between my first two surgeries February and March of 1983.  Harry was born on the same birthdate as my mother-in-law Paz, January 24th...  One day I was at my in-law's ranch in Veracruz taking photographs when something told me to return to the kitchen and take photographs there.  Now what could be different this minute from the last.  And when I turned to the kitchen, it was just beautiful and I took photos.  But, I didn't see my grandfather in the photos until I returned home to Xalapa that evening.  I turned to Margarita and said, "do you see this?"  She went to our bedroom and returned with my childhood photo album and showed me a photo of my grandfather...  He was so clear in the smoke over the bracero in the kitchen that, Margarita, who hadn't known him in life recognized the similarity to the photograph...  It was a long story.  But it is already written.  This time around I've decided to write this differently... if I actually continue.

My Uncle Stan...  a horrible man... for me... possibly for himself.  If he didn't do something unforgiveable, why would he be dependent upon me for his being able to rest?

I couldn't go back there even if I tried.  Not even with psychologists could I touch those formative experiences with my father's illness and death and what happened with my Uncle and in my childhood home before the age of 10...  

If it were true that Stan is hovering around there somewhere hoping for my forgiveness, then maybe can help me understand.  There was the possibility that Stacy was there too...  I'm sure she knew much more than Seth explained to me that Passover night...  I believe that's why she was so attentive towards me...  But then she died.  

And then we die.  And I don't know what truly changes.  

The years speed by.  Relationships fade. Some were better than others.  Some still are and how wonderful.  Some relationships you a trained to believe should be the most enduring yet were still-born, such as the relationship with my mother and with my sisters.  Actually, the relationship with my mother is borderline personality :-)  She never truly knew if she wanted to love me or hurt me.

She's incredibly sarcastic and has this thing for kicking you in the balls...  and then she tells you she loves you and then she does it again.  There's a point when one must say enough iis enough, even if it is to your very own mother.

Just as she could say, "I never promised you a rose garden", I can say, "no one can guarrantee the success of a relationship between a parent and a child or between other blood relatives.  Relationships aren't genetic. They are psychological, socio-political and spiritual.  

You don't agree with me?

Then why do parents neglect their children?

Why do parents physically and/or emotionally abuse their children?

Why would a father sexually abuse his son or his daughter?

You don't believe that's possible?

There are many men and women in prison for being discovered...  And, maybe they weren't put in prison, but they were divorced and lost their children.  My friend Michelle's brother committed suicide after his father was put in prison for raping him repeatedly and with a young man he brought in from the street.  For years I was seeing a deformed woman come to Margarita's parents' house with her mother for grinding corn in the mornings.  I always wondered about her lack of formation into a normal adult body.  And then Margarita and her brothers explained that she is her grandfather's daughter, if you know what I mean.  The story is much more horrible regarding this man and I wonder why they didn't lynch him, although they claim he killed his other daughter's lover out of jealousy...  

And, why didn't their mother protect them from their father?  

So, tell me about parental unconditional love...

No this is not about resentment and anger or going back in the past for shovelling it in your face...  

It's about living until you die and how you live...  

I am not a dead man walking...  I haven't died.  I've lived a ton.  I would like to live more and better.  I wish there wasn't a past under question, nor a past for retrieving.  I wish I didn't have a parent or siblings for remembering, nor the need for somehow coming to terms with what we call family, and what that TRULY means.

If I die tomorrow.  I die.  And that's that.  I don't believe there is anything left untied on my part.  There is no one of who I wish forgiveness.   Oh, yes, my cat Alex. No. I don't wish for his foregiveness, but for my own, since I did to hime what my mother did to me, ignored his needs.  I emotionally neglected him due to my selfishness...  He was a very special and beautiful cat.  But he was very needy for my attention.  I'm sure that's what my mother would say after my father's death and my uncle's beatings and anti-Semitism and ostracism by my childhood peers... spitting and taunting and "POOR BOY"... 

But that doesn't mean that I don't wish things could have been different.  But they couldn't have been.  Maybe we could have behaved different.  But we didn't.  I teased Satch, I wet the bed... If that was the true cause of my uncle's violence towards me...  the only son of his only brother dying at Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center.  But, maybe if I hadn't lit the basement on fire the day before my father was taken from our house to the hospital for good.  I was 4-years-old.  Why did I light the basement on fire?  I remember that day.  Vividly.  I don't remember being more than curious.  But, maybe had I decided against wetting Seth's bed.  But it wasn't a decision.  I was asleep...  Teasing Satch until he bit me...  I was still only 4-years-old.  Not all household dogs bite.  Many don't bite small children.  But was that reason to beat the shit out of me?

And you may ask, "But Ross, why are you going back there?"  And I wonder... how toddler minds are formed under such circumstances...  And we return to the apology...  But, why would a grown man choose a small child as a target? especially under those circumstances?  And, truthfully, what would be the repercussions over a lifetime adding all of the rest of the uncontrollable circumstances and the un-natural stress placed upon a child?  And what if the other adults knew what my Uncle Stan was doing to me those weekends...  Maybe they would have treated him and me differently.  Maybe they course would have been different.  But it seemed that everyone failed and the course was as it was; a great part of my destiny.  And throw in FAP/Gardners on top of an original PTSD situation...

But we live.  And we survive.  And we develop much self-respect for having overcome much and have learned and have grown so much through the experience...  

And maybe we aren't superman.  But nor are we a dead man walking...

In Mexico.  Yes.  Not on your street.  Nor in your family reunion.  Because I was never truly an acceptable part of your family nor were you truly an acceptable part of mine.  And you should ask yourself why...  

But you can live with your denile and your illusions.  They don't protect you from suffering, although they may mitigate it a bit.  But, in the end you know what you did or what you didn't do and what was true success and what wasn't true.  I can't live with your denile, nor within your illusions.  

But I am not dead.  Never was. 

The clock continues ticking...

Joey... Illusions, Fantasies, Realities and enigmas... Part ?

:-)

Now what does that mean?  :-)  

The other day, a woman passed by our coffee bar wearing a sun dress I remember Joey had worn years ago.   It's interesting how little things can bring back little chunks of our past....

It wasn't the first time a stranger has caused the reflection towards Joey...  Sometimes it's a facial structure; the shape of the eyes, eyebrows, forehead and bridge of the nose.  I have the urge towards asking the person "when is your birthday?" imagining their response being June 27th... Other times it is the person's hair...  This time it was her sundress...  I imagined Joey's chest just below her shoulders and neck.  

Fantasies... Illusions.  What percentage of our lives and relationships is based upon the truly unreal?  

But who wants to live outside of a Hollywood, Disney or Randomhouse fantasy?

What do you want to know about Joey?  However, anything I could say about her would be an illusion or an alusion towards someone I may have thought I knew...  Who am I?  But maybe you don't truly want to know...  We only want ficcion and distraction and entertainment.

Joey.  

Sometimes (I imagine most of the time) I believe I will write about her.  But today I believe that would be unfair. how can you write about someone whom you never truly knew? Yes, she lived with me from just after 9/11 until somewhere around July the following year.  However, I imagine she was an enigma, just as I believe I was to myself. 

Nor have I written about those 5 years between Randi and leaving for Mexico.  That has become an enigma to me.   My 5 years as an "artist" in NYC.  In a strange way, I'm more an artist today in  Mexico than I was in New York.  In New York I was more a strangely fortunate vagrant... In ways I'm sure I wasn't so different from Basquiat; possibly less crazy; possibly less wild.  But, being that who I was then is an enigma to me now, I couldn't tell you the true truth.  

I miss New York.  I relish the few remaining memories.  I miss some of the wild experiences; the intense illusions and the intense fantasies; the paradox of the life lived as both fantasy and reality at the same time.

Joey was this experience of simultaneous illusion and reality.  But where do you go with that?

I think about "what if we were to meet again?"  That's the strange fantasy.  But, the question is always answered by reality.   There is a long pause until the following triggering of thoughts about Joey and the illusion or fantasy askes the question again, only to be answered by reality.  What is reality?

We can live reality and fantasy simultaneously.  It's the fantasy that prolongs the relationship... if the relationship will not work...  

What is Joey doing today?  In a city of 9 million inhabitants in a world of almost 7 billion, I imagine that it doesn't really matter.  But, for some strange reason, she exists within my mind, although I haven't seen her for coming on 11 years now.  

Do you remember when I recited a poem to which you danced?  But who were those people who invited us to join them?  How did we know them?  Where did we meet them?  And did we see them again?  That was real.  And I imagine it was incredibly stimulating.  Maybe it could have led to something...  But it didn't.  I guess because you and I were meant to explode apart; I was meant to leave for Mexico and marry Margarita and become a much "better" person...  

Enigmas...

But why think about you?  if we aren't meant to start up the conversation again, if we weren't meant to see each other? And, what would happen if that suddenly became an option?  Don't get me wrong.  I don't see why either of us would truly want that.  I'm just thinking.

There was something else... In how you appeared in my life... in your role in my not becoming ill... in the surgery...  Reality; you were my last ejaculation.  It's one of those memories that don't fade...  The most visual one was lying on your mattress on your floor in the far East Harlem... I remember your window.  When I think of that evening I see the track a few blocks down...  I don't know why...  My last ejaculation.  Sounds crude.  But it truly isn't.  You made it easier for me to go to the hospital, to see the doctors to have the horrible examinations to have the surgery...  And then I lost my ability to ejaculate.  It means a lot.  It's very personal.  Could be symbolic.  But it is real.  

I think about why you wouldn't forgive me. Many reasons.  And it doesn't really matter the spiritual  connection.  For at least 10 years since you left NYC for Denver, I thought it was the spiritual connection between you and I that you should remember.  But,   it's not true.  It's the lived experience that matters too...  An assassin could be spiritual connected to me because he or she was part of my destiny, my learning experience or what  must remove me from this life.  I guess I wouldn't want to meet them again.  And I wouldn't want to meet again many aspects of me those 1.5 years we were together...  

Illusions, fantasies, enigmas, difficult realities...  we were beautiful for a moment.  But just a moment... More than a few seconds or minutes or days.  But quickly reality changed the fantasy, the illusion...  We were laying on your bed naked and you brought me to orgasm and I ejaculated all the way to my chest... And that's my last ejaculation memory.  At least six months later I asked you to do that for me at Mount Sinai Hospital, because I knew something had changed between my legs after the surgery.  But, I figured you could stimulate me enough to see if I was correct.  And that was that.  

At times we slept all day in your bed.  We had so much time.  Probably because we truly had so little time.

The other day Margarita noticed a small scar on my left testical and asked me about it.  I told her that I had had surgery for hernia when I was 5.  And she responded a few days later, "ya know what?  I imagine you've never impregnated a woman because you never could; There were at least two cases in my ranch where the child had surgery on his testicals for hernia and later on as an adult he wasn't able to impregnate a woman..."  Who knows?  The history changes the experience; the perspective of the history changes the experience.  Maybe it wasn't the last surgery that made my incapable of impregnating Margarita.  Maybe it doesn't really matter that nothing comes out.  It doesn't matter to her.  She appreciates/enjoys me just the same.

Sounds strange.  Are you embarrassed?  Are you ashamed of me (reader) for sharing such personal information...?  But, almost half of the world's population must ejaculate for a few decades of their life.  And almost the other half of the world's population wants/expects them to ejaculate.  Without the ejaculation...  There are many answers.  And all of them are incredibly logical.  You shouldn't feel offended.   The church, the synogogue, the mosque should consider the act of ejaculating a beautiful event, since they believs that sperm is sacred since it is the only way of continuing the "race"... so why not talk about it?  And afterall, that memory with Joey was incredibly beautiful.  In as wonderful is my marriage with Margarita, I can't have that wonderful experience with her, which makes me sad.

Of course I wonder if she's reading my blog.  I try reading what I think she reads.  But, truthfully, I don't have much interest re-reading what I wrote.  It's strange... The impetus, the energy behind having created this blog 2 years ago has totally dissipated.  I wonder why.  At times I think of writing something new.  But, I find myself repeating in my mind things I've already written and I think that it's a possible attempt towards getting it right this time.  However, I worry about what the reader will think about my redundancy.

I've written about many girlfriends or almost girlfriends.  I've written much more indepth about others than about Joey.  However, with the exception of Cathy, it really didn't matter to me if any of them entered my blog.

I

Some strange illness my way comes...

During my 43.8 year lifetime, I've contracted the Flu a handful of times...  I've proudly boasted of not remembering ever having a fever outside of a dirty I.V. needly inserted in my arm during my last hospital stint at Mount Sinai Medical Center in Manhattan, November 2001.  My sisters (especially Beth) experienced strep throat regularly.  ¿Yo? No...  I've had one cavity in my life.  I believe I've had a strange form of influenza occasionally since late adolescence.  For some reason I was sure it was influenza, although never diagnosed... An influenza that settled into the joints and muscles, didn't cause nausea or fevers, but a strange form of paralysis, semi-paralysis that lasted maximally 3 days, one time causing my being away from the lab where I worked testing sewer sludge at the age of 20.  I wanted to believe that I had been contaminated by the sludges or by the acids I used for attempting towards isolating the various chemical substances in those sludges possibly contaminating farmland or drinking water...  But, I "knew" it was the flu and not the job... I would experience this strange semi-paralysis, strange fatigue occasionally the rest of my life...

When we were selling gourmet cupcakes in Xalapa between 2003 and 2007, I believe I had damaged the nerves from my right shoulder to my right hand from repeatedly going from the hot of the oven while baking to the cold of the freezer, where we stored our finished cupcakes.  Later on I would realize that I may have damaged the nerves in my right should from carrying 120 pound sacks of sugar on my shoulder or 50 pound crates of bananas there...  I prided on being an ox or a mule, a beast of cargo...  I loved pushing my body to it's physical limits.  Today, for at least 6 years now, I can't put much weight on that shoulder, which is much weaker than it was...

I imagined that the hot to cold and over-use damage to my arm created Carpal Tunnel Syndrome, since I would experience the symptoms in my right hand after days of typing on the computer... Truthfully, until about 2 weeks ago, I didn't know there were other Tunnel syndromes in the arm and that Carpal Tunnel only relates towards the nerve canal that passes through the center of the wrist and only affects the hand and the thumb and first 2.5 fingers...  All would be basically fine, if the nerve-muscle issues I'm experiencing were relegated to the wrist and that part of the hand...  However...

The Tunnel Syndromes can be caused by pinched nerves... they can be caused by the inflamation of tendonitis, meaning that you can have the two and not just one or the other... You can have bursitis like pains in isolated regions of the shoulder.  You can have rotator cuff and pitcher's elbow or golfer's elbow like pain in your elbow...  Benign tumors can create Tunnel syndromes by putting too much pressure upon the nerves that go towards the hand or the fingers... However, one must be very careful assuming, without knowing exactly where is the tumor or the nerve that passes through that part of the arm.  I have a lipoma (I imagine it is a benign fatty tumor in the backside of my upper arm between my armpit and my elbow.  We've been aware of it for at least 8 years now.  It hasn't grow (as far as I can see) and occassionally is "tender"...  The few doctors who've been notified of this dismissed it as a ball of fat.  Then again, they don't know about Gardner's Syndrome and that it is not just a ball of fat...  Truthfully, I don't know if it is pressing upon one of the two main nerves in my arm and if that nerve passes through the carpal tunnel, which I believe not, since Carpal Tunnel Syndrome is related to the nerve that passes between the elbow and the wrist...

All sounds pretty innocuous, doesn't it?

But then things changed in November...  (and things changed in December... and things changed in January... And things have changed such that I'm "inspired" to write about this today, February 23, 2013...)

A Valentine's Day Story/Conversation

she wrote:
big huge mama jumbo bag of snickers , bubble bath AND a masssage!!!... ill be seeing y'all LATER-maybe . HAPPY V DAY
And I said:  Don't drown yourself... Valentine's Day isn't worth it... just a scam to make some people feel worse! And if you don't drown yourself, don't subject yourself to prolonged torture with the scale the following days... And if you eat the jumbo bag of snickers, make sure that the masseuse stays away from your midsection or that could produce vomitting or diarea or flatulence, making this unfortunate Valentines Day that much less romantic! But, thinking about it... How can you eat a jumbo bag of snickers and lay in hot water?

and she said: damn!!!! now i may drown myself!!!! 

 How many have you eaten? Should someone call 911? 

 not YET!!!! (ok maybe4)

Enjoy your bath and massage. There are 364 much better days in the year than this one... No joke... I used to love snickers. But, here in Mexico they don't sell the jumbo-sized ones so enjoyable to sink your teeth into... and as for bubble baths... it's extremely rare to find an actual bathtub here... ... awwwww but the food more then makes up for it!!!! 

...we bought a box of Mrs. Fields chocolate chip cookies in Costco. That was today's V-Day celebration... After two cookies, I felt like vomitting! Where is Galinda the Good Witch of the West who can send me back to my adolescent days in New Jersey and the ability to down all that stuff without feeling anything? ...Truthfully, while driving to the park where we soak in the sun while exercising I mentioned to Margarita the different problem of V-Day for men and women in the U.S. using the example of Mars and Venus... The man must find someone to go out with that night (if he is single) and spend a lot of money on stupid stuff. And if he isn't single he must spend a lot of money on stupid stuff and try and appear as if this day was more special than all other days... A sign of the single woman's attractiveness is having a date on the 14th... However, there is the probability that she becomes inundated by invitations by morons and perverts and must have the strength to say no, risk being alone that evening... Margarita says that she (the woman) is probably better off not taking the risk with any jerk and asked why can't women ask men out on the 14th? My response is social norms... The last 14th I remember celebrating was in 1996 when my 3 year relationship with the woman from college with whom I moved to NYC was deteriorating. We had to meet for dinner after work, since it was the 14th... I rushed around the city and bought a box of chocolates at Godiva and gave it to her at the restaurant. When she saw the box she said, "Look Ross, if you didn't want to buy me something, you shouldn't have..." But if I didn't... Social pressures. You may ask, "what's so bad about Godiva Chocolates?" She knew that I prefer giving authentic gifts for weddings and other special occasions. Godiva is commercial and cliche like a dozen roses... However, I've never considered Valentines Day a special occasion, and less so when the ending of a relationship was long overdo... I believe the best reason for giving a person a gift is when you feel it within and not because someone or something said you should... 

amen to that!!!once you put it that way....but i woulda loved the godiva chocolates...!!!

Yes, I thought you would have V. But, truthfully, there is much better chocolate in this world... 

yes!!! but its the thought!!!!that was a horrible reply!!!!!!(from her) so why are you in mexico??? if i may ask...just curious .....are you running from the law???(bad attempt at humor) Don't worry about the humor. I deserve it after how I began this conversation...We had a gourmet cupcake business in Xalapa Veracruz 4 years from 2003-2007. I tried creating the best quality chocolate cupcakes that the locals could afford... So, I bought 12 pound bars of the highest quality Mexican chocolate (Chocolate Turin named after the northern Italian town "Turin" where the modern chocolate process began), chopped it up and mixed it in the batter with Hershey's Cocoa... We had Chocolate-Coffee, Chocolate Coconut, Chocolate Peanut Butter, Black and white (chocolate/vanilla), Banana with Chocolate chips... All filled with and topped with cream cheese toppings mixed with cocoa or with coconut cream or with vanilla... You have no idea how much chocolate I ate over those 4 years! Fortunately 6 years have passed and I have recovered and can appreciate a good (yet small piece of chocolate)... Come to think of it, what the hell happened to that box of Godiva Chocolates?!!! Damn! 

 that sound AMAZING!!! what happenned??( after 2007??)

Truthfully, I think her reply was concise. And I appreciate that she knew me well enough to have understood that something was amiss when I brought the box of Godivas... However, it's a shame that two people who once were actually friends must end up hurting or being hurt... in order to do what's actually right for themself or the other... She ended up marrying 1.5 years after we separated and has two children and a brownstone in Park Slope Brooklyn... I think it all worked out for her.

 and you too i hope?!!!!!

What happened with the cupcake business? I gained at least 40 pounds and became ill, mainly from the incredible stress of trying to pull ourselves up from our bootstraps in Mexico (in a town far from having the culture or economy for our business). We had many clients. But we were selling very close to cost. I've always been a strange idealist. My ideals tend towards going against economic prosperity... One day a client passed by our cupcake tables and asked me why we didn't have a bakery or cafe or a coffee bar (since we were selling my father-in-law's organic coffee... And I began a 2 week interchange (call and response) with him (a retired man from the Olympic Peninsula)... After two weeks of responding to his questions he said, "I think you've answered all of my questions. You have a good point. The big fish will always swallow the little fish. But I can help you economically. Just give me the price... But tell me what you are going to do with the money."

For me? Imagine... I was looking for my wife ever since the age of 8... One of my ex-girlfriends from Brooklyn once called me "Serial Monogamist"... And I asked, "can you blame me for trying?" I believe she watched too much Sex and the City... It turns out that she ended up impregnating herself artificially and gave birth to a beautiful daughter after I left for Mexico... In as much as the relationships were important to me, I never met the person with whom I could create a wonderful life... I stress the second part of that statement, "WITH WHOM I COULD CREATE A WONDERFUL LIFE"... I remember living in Brooklyn after 9/11 and reading the editorials or whatever you call them in the New York Times written by women envious of all the sudden weddings after 9/11, saying "I used to be anti-committment, enjoying meeting different men from different occupations... not wanting to be burdened by having to be with someone specific. But, after 9/11 I feel so ALONE. Everyone has someone for support and I just have my dog..." (I added the dog part ;-o) Arms that don't truly belong entwined in an embrace, no matter the situation, shouldn't embrace... However, minds that don't allow one into the other, that don't truly wish for an attempt towards sharing, create miserable people in the end... It's very difficult to make an "ideal" match... And even if the match or pairing is close to ideal, it doesn't remove an incredible conflict/stress caused by attemption towards mixing two distinctly separate worlds. No matter what anyone says, each person is a unique universe with a lifetime of experience separate from that of the other... And in as close as we me come to another, we are always semi-light years away. I loved the Dar Williams line that says something to the tone, "I was born alone and I will die alone..." and something to the tone of trying to accept the differences and to appreciate the meetings... Somewhere we may meet someone who magically fits better with us than others... People call it chemistry. I may call it Astrology... I may call it destiny... Possibly our souls were always connected in some way or another... or time doesn't truly exist and everything is planned out for us in some strange way or another... and we meet people who help us grow/evolve, travel and learn... They may not be lovers. They may not be spouses... The relationships may not be explainable...

...And you can't expect the appearance of that person... or wait for them... they have no background or appearance... but you must expect you and await your appearance. Meaning that you must be honest and sincere with yourself. You must learn true respect for yourself and enjoyment with yourself. You must forgive yourself and have patience with you... And, possibly, just possibly, if you haven't met that person or those people, you will meet them or begin meeting them... It all begins with you... And then one day, close to the end of my 7 year cycle in New York City that began with the College love with whom I moved from Amherst, Mass. to her grandmothers coop in Astoria, Queens... I decided to sell all of my stuff and hopped on a Greyhound Bus from the Port Authority in Manhattan to Mexico City... I had $3,000USD, no working knowledge of Spanish. No illusions about Mexico, Mexican Culture, Politics or Mexican people... Not even prejudices... Just a strange sling-shot to another world... 3 weeks later I met Margarita. 5 months later we were married... To this date she doesn't speak English... But, for some strange reason I understood everything she told me... and miraculously, I made Spanish my first language... Now, how can one do that? You would understand only if you heard me speak English. Since I don't do it for even the equivalent of 1 of 365 days per year for 10 years now, I've lost much of my spoken English abilities... It's cool. Sometimes we die and are reborn... sometimes we leave and don't return. Each additional day here in Mexico is one day less probable that I will return to the U.S. Not that that makes me happy. Life here is very difficult and risky; why so many people "escape" to the U.S. I understand aspects of the arguments about closing the "doors" to immigrants. Every country has the right to determine how many people and who enters their countries for living permanently. However, the U.S. has ALWAYS been a country of immigrants or foreignors... It was built upon that premise or need or desire or strength... It would be a lie to say, "The U.S. for Americans"... Just look at our last names... look at the incredible mix of cultures that created so many new appearances, ideas, perspectives and flavors... Who didn't come from another place that wasn't exterminated by the newcomers...? The American Dream is for everyone who came from incredible limitations or nightmares. It's for their children and grandchildren... The founding forefathers were immigrants seeking new lives and better opportunities... mainly for "their" people... I live in Mexico. I understand why the people leave for the U.S., against all odds. I did the reverse. I'm here against all odds. Margarita is from the 2nd to lowest "class" in Mexico, just above indigenous, although her family isn't "indigenous" because somewhere in the past they rejected their roots to protect themselves against extreme classism and racism... Imagine... connecting with women of my class, region, educational level, social/cultural background, possibly religious background (since I don't believe in modern or organized religion), language etc., I found that we always had an incredible communication/language problem... There was just something we didn't understand or accept about the other or what came out of the other's mouth... We spoke clearly. But we didn't understand what the other person was saying and we ended up in incredible misunderstandings...

...When people learned that Margarita and I were married in 2003 and that she doesn't speak English, they asked, "how did you understand each other? Through signs?" They would ask Margarita that infront of me, as if I didn't exist. As if I didn't understand their foolish statements or energy... Most people believe that our language, our nationality, our religion, our skin-tone, our bone structure, our accents is our "race"... makes us different species, like dogs and cats...

...How did I end up in Mexico? I painted Margarita up to two years before ever thinking of setting foot in Mexico. When I began painting, I painted EVERY important woman who would enter my life before meeting her... 4 months before leaving for Mexico, I drew "The Woman in the Sky"... She's floating above the mountains, her hair becomes Pico de Orizaba, the 3rd tallest peak in North America (on the gulf coast of Veracruz). The woman's skirt becomes the gentle waves of the Gulf Coast... A Mexican man with a baseball cap turned backwards, like a hip-hop or rapper hoodie with sad eyes has his head in her lap... I knew he was me because that is how I wore my beloved baseball cap EVERY DAY... But, I didn't know that there were volcanoes in Mexico, nor did I know anything about Mexico, nor about Veracruz, nor about the gulf coast. Nor did I care... August 15th 2002 my last "American" girlfriend left our apartment in Brooklyn to return to Denver Colorado. 2 months later, exactly on October 15th, I met with Estrella the Puerto Rican "psychic" in Park Slope, Brooklyn. It was my second meeting with him in 2 years after being recommended by a Dominican collegue while working as a social worker in Foster Care services for the Salvation Army Social Services... The first meeting was interesting. The second one blew my mind... The first thing Estrella said while feeling (not reading) the tarot cards was, "Your girlfriend left you exactly 2 months ago..." "She was much more attractive than you..." (she was a dancer [ballet/modern] and the daughter of a Czech-American and an African-American; beautiful bone/muscle structure, incredible hair/curls)... He said, "you will leave the U.S. in less than 4 months... to Europe"... I said he was crazy. I wasn't going anywhere outside the U.S.; actually a friend of mine had just invited me to move in with him in Portland, Oregan. I told James that I would, but when my lease was up along with my 7 years at the end of January... Truthfully, I didn't have the money for travelling and thank god James had a place for me and had invited me and hopefully I would find work there... Estrella said, "Fine, as you wish, you aren't going to Europe or leave the country." But you can't stay here. When you reach your final destination you will meet your last girlfriend. It's not a perfect relationship. But it's a good one... I see a lot of trees where you are going and a large body of water, like a lake... But, you will not find her here... In fact, you will not have another sexual relationship with a woman as long as you remain in New York City... You won't have a sexual relationship with another woman until you end up where you are going... As it turns out... I sensed nothing with women between August 2002 and January 2003. And, for the first time in my life since high school (since before my first sexual relationship that lasted 4 years), I started truly appreciating time spent with men and I developed some really wonderful relationships (or I realized that the friendships I had with certain male friends the five years between breaking up with the college love and leaving for Mexico were really important for me)... But, just as I realized that, something told me I must leave for Mexico on December 5th, 2002... And I left my best friends behind and I don't believe I'll see them again. And here in Mexico it is incredibly difficult to create friendships... There is too much mistrust and interpersonal conflict and a word that doesn't translate well into English (Invidia)... People don't have conversation for the enjoyment of conversing and sharing with others... People don't appreciate others here... But I met Margarita. I didn't spend my life looking for my best friends... I spent my life looking for the woman I would walk with alongside... Do you remember the "Dark Crystal"? I was looking for her... I always believed that we were equal... That in some way or another we completed each other... I know, that may sound naive or loopy... I'm prone to self-criticism and don't like living in fantasies or being idealist... I don't believe in fairy tales... However, something within said that the best things I would do in life would be accomplished alongside another... I'm egoistic in many forms. However, I don't believe we get there alone... Granted, maybe it's just that I don't get there alone and, maybe others do. But, what happened with those anti-commitment women after 9/11?

...The dancer girlfriend was born exactly 7 years, 7 days and 7 minutes after me... I was head over heals in-love with her... But I knew that we couldn't continue... and I pushed her away... So I asked Estrella, what is the significance of 3, 7s? His response was that 7 is a cosmic number... and the combination of 3 7s is divine, since it is a trinity of a cosmic #. 7 isn't about luck... It's something about cosmic force... When I told him that the ex-girlfriend was born 3 7s after me, he yelled, "LOOK, IT'S OVER! IT'S WATER UNDER THE BRIDGE! SHE'S GONE! FORGET ABOUT HER!... And if she looks for you, it won't be for 3+ years later. She lost her prince and you are about to find your princess. When a woman loses her prince, she doesn't find another. But a prince will always find his princess. She has serious problems; AND IT IS NOT YOUR FAULT. LET HER GO!" 

It turns out, I spent my last week in the U.S.in New York (after selling my stuff, leaving my apartment near Kings Highway and spending some time with my mother and her husband in New Jersey before they left for France) with one of my bestfriends and his wife. Actually, it turns out that he met Margarita while helping a Shamanism friend in Veracruz that past December... The day I left on the Greyhound, Michael's wife offered me a gift for leaving. She showed me a bunch of hand sculpted stone pendents of indiginous friends she and Michael met during their 2 year travel from Mexico to Argentina, just before I met them on East Houston towards the end of the summer of 1997. She asked me to choose one. The only one that reached out to me was a fish. I said to M'nique, "But why the fish? I don't have any Pisces in my astrological chart..." A few weeks into our relationship I took the fish pendent/necklace off my neck and said to Margarita in my less than a month of Spanish, "The fish has finally found it's home..." and placed it around her neck. Margarita was born on March 7th, 1975... she was the magical 3-7 I was looking for... When you look over your history, you may realize that so many coincidences actually disprove that concept, as Carl Jung explains in his book about Syncronicity...

... I believe this is a fitting story for Valentines Day, don't you? But people always ask me why I left for Mexico. Usually I tell them it is a very long and complex story. I wrote a blog trying to explain it... and then I got fed up and basically dropped the writing... But, truthfully, I believe there is something else happening in our lives if we seek that something else and we don't imprison ourselves in other people's styles and expectations. I don't believe our souls have a nationality or a religion or an economic level or a social class or a status or a sexuality or a gender. But I do believe that our souls are much more than our bodies and are eternal. The question is "how do we connect with our souls?" and "is our material being truly more valuable than our spiritual being, although it is much easier to see and feel our material being?" Why soulmate if the meeting wasn't being our physical capacities for truly connecting? (I don't understand this sentence or how it ended up as it is; truthfully I don't understand it.  But, I remember when I wrote it and I'm not capable of rewriting it, nor am I willing to remove it at the moment). In Spanish, soulmate is "Alma Gemela"... Meaning "Soul Twin"... It's a nice idea or fantasy; "Soul Twin" or your duplicate somewhere out there... That was a song in some Disney Animated movie, wasn't it? "Somewhere, Out There, beyond the... blah, blah, blah, I will find you... Somewhere... Out There..."  However, how can your twin look totally different and be of a different sex or gender? Afterall, it is a constant war of the sexes, isn't it? It's just a war because those waging it don't truly want peace or to understand the other side's complaint... Or is it possible that the material/socio-political (and unresolvable) historical issue of embedded sexism (perpetuated by both the fathers and the mothers) or inherent disrespect/lack of consideration and lack of understanding that we are the same with slightly different procreative purposes/roles AND THE TRUTH that both men and women come into this world via a WOMAN making it IMPOSSIBLE that the man is more valuable... The embedded artificial creation of the man's socio-politically and biologically superiority over the woman creates an almost impossibility of there being true harmony within heterosexual relationships. More than 6 thousound years of male created/dominated/oriented societies, religions, socio-political and educational systems, theologies and philosophies constructed to prove and/or perpetuate Male physical, intellectual and spiritual dominance over the woman makes it a bit difficult for there to be true harmony within a heterosexual relationship... We are taught to listen to and communicate towards, relate towards the other sex in a way that is subconsciously socially acceptable, although it maintains a "battle of the sexes"... Some women say "I like it this way! I like being a woman. I like being treated as a woman!" Why wouldn't she? It's how we were taught is acceptable... I truly believe that NO ONE likes being unacceptable, different, outcast, in conflict with the norms... But that doesn't make it correct... None of this removes the issue of the conflict. But, maybe it isn't about any of this... Maybe the true conflict is because we haven't connected with who we truly grow with... Maybe some or many of us aren't meant to connect that way... Or maybe because we are so out of touch with ourselves, so distracted, so dishonest with ourselves or others... maybe we can't connect well with THAT person because we don't connect well with ourselves... We aren't truly comfortable with ourselves, in the skin we choose and not the skin that is truly ours... How many people lie to themselves? and to others in order to be accepted... by their family... by their peers... Maybe you don't truly like or enjoy or appreciate what you think you do... because you don't want to be different... Sounds lie a sermon... It's kind of funny. Your Snickers and Bubblebath got me inspired and on a role and I'm sure I'm the only one smiling at this moment (with my eyes)... But why you? It seems that you were the one I caught alone on V-Day drowning yourself metaphorically and unnecessarily in a Jumbo bag of Snickers... hoping that the hot water, bubbles and a massage would remove the tension of not sharing this foolish and horribly manipulative day... Granted, the bubble bath could have been a seductive setting for that sexy hunk of a man about to give you a nice massage blah blah blah... But, if that were the case, you wouldn't have a Jumbo bag of snickers alongside the computer and you wouldn't have been sharing that with "us" on the computer... I'm not making fun of you... It's truthfully a strange embrace. I think you can laugh at yourself... But I wouldn't be surprised if you remove me from your friend's list. As I said, there are 364 much more important days in the year preceeding and superceeding February 14th... Truthfully, I'm not to blame for this. However, it's a wonderful opportunity. Don't you think?

Today January 28, 2013, is my 10 year anniversary of entering Mexico...

At the moment there is nothing more to say...

Mexico isn't the United States for "Democracy", physical and economic health

Why would Mexico not allow the same dosis as the United States... Why would Mexico allow the entrance of so many stolen vehicles... Why would a 1973 Monte Carlo I bought for $700 USD in New Jersey in 1986 sell for $3,000 USD here in Mexico in 2012, and not because it's a classic car (Volkswagon Bugs are sold here for at least $1,500 USD when they were removed from the U.S. market almost 30 years ago). Why are pharmaceuticals banned in the U.S. sold in Mexico? Why are Kitchen Aid stand up beaters taken off the U.S. Market sold all over Mexico, yet at twice the price of the most luxury/advanced Kitchen Aid in the U.S.? Why would a lower quality Toyota Corolla sell for 40% more in Mexico than in the U.S., although it is manufactured here? A 180 capsule bottle of GNC Vitamin D3 5,000 IU in the U.S. costs $20 USD. A 100 capsul bottle of GNC Vitamin D2 400 UIs in Mexico (they don't sell it in the U.S. and GNC is from the U.S.) $15 USD, meaning that the equivalent of what costs you $20 in the U.S. will cost me $270 USD here... Imagine that. Mexico is the #1 consumer of Coca Cola products. If I am correct, they are #1 in the world with Diabetes and #1 or #2 in the world in Obesity. Mexico is #11 of the richest countries, #10 of the most populated countries; the U.S. is #3 of the most populated countries. Imagine the pharmaceutical market here... The top 4 "industries" in Mexico that make up the brunt of the GNP here are (not in order because it changes every year) Petroleum, Tourism, exportation of resources--non-luxury-items (corn, minerals, coffee, sugar etc) and Dollars sent back to Mexican families by "migrant" Mexican workers in the U.S. The Mexican government exports it's almost poorest people to the U.S. and removes a grand public health/social programs burden on the government (that the U.S. absorbs in return for very important industrial favors by Mexico). The "American" anti-immigration/anti-Mexican "racists" don't understand international trade and political economy. With all the money that Mexico has from it's GNP, Mexico could create social/education/public health programs that remove the need for so much internal and external migration. However, that would require a ton of investment (moreso in time and energy) and the Mexican political culture was never created for planning for the future. Plus, the U.S. and Canada gain too much from the exchanges here to want a truly independent Mexico. So, why wouldn't they want me to have access to information and adequate supplements, adequate diet? Because "I" possibly wouldn't need to buy BP medication or Genaprazol for gastritis or diabetes meds or new Coca Cola vitamin water/electrolyte products. The number #1 bakery in the world BIMBO bought the formerly #1 bakery in the world Weston Foods of Canada/U.S. (former owner of Wonder, Branola etc). BIMBO is Mexican. Their most whole wheat bread in Mexico, is one step above white bread... BIMBO controls the Hostess-style cake and cookie market in Mexico. Pepsi Co is the #1 fried or baked "junk food" manufacturer in the world since it owns Frito Lay Co. Come to Mexico and you'll be amazed at the variety of Frito-Lay products that you wouldn't dream of seeing in the U.S. Here, Nestle controls most of the milk market in Mexico. The milk producers are almost totally dependent upon selling their milk to Nestle. Here in Mexico Nestle can promote on the Television Nesquick chocolate milk for advanced growth in Children. In the U.S. Nestle would be sued for misleading the consumer. Here in Mexico Nestle promote Nescafe as having a high amount of anti-oxidents for promoting health. In the U.S. they would be sued for misinformation and lying. I'm sure you've heard about the Walmart Corruption Controversy in Mexico... I'm sure you've read about HSBC money laundering here in Mexico. The "big guys" don't do this so much in the U.S., Canada, Northern/Western Europe, not because of ethics or morals, but because of safeguarding, monitoring. However, the same well-meaning "people" in those countries see a financial opportunity in Mexico and they forget about their ethics, morals... 

It was recently published in the U.S. that if the government seriously addresses the issues connected with Vitamin D deficiency, it could decrease healthcare costs 25-50% by decreasing hypertension, heart disease, many cancers etc. And that's why it's in the Mexican medical and pharmaceutical (although the pharmaceutical sector actually is American, Canadian and German for the most part) private sectors best interest that "I" can't obtain adequate vitamin suppliments here... And, if the U.S. government pays a descent amount of healthcare costs for the elderly and the disabled and a little bit for the poor, why would the medical/pharmaceutical industry wish to decrease the healthcare costs? "Americans" are fortunate because they truly believe in democracy and fighting for it and fighting for freedom of speech and expression and access to information and access to improved quality of life and access to adequate education for their children. It's a complex socio-political system that has deep roots that almost automatically protects your best interests and those of your children and grandchildren even if you never communicate with anyone and you don't set foot out of your house. Here in Mexico, the socio-political situation is opposite that of the U.S., and has it's deep set roots cultivated by a totally different historical situation based upon Spanish Conquest and explotation never planned for creating a safer, "freer", healthier situation outside of Spain. And within Spain, the cultural, political and educational situation was maintained in the Dark Ages by the Inquisition that existed well into the 19th century. In its territories the idea was day-to -day how do we remove as much value from the earth as easily, quickly and cost-effectively as possible. If someone offers 100 million dollars to a few politicians in Latin America, the constitution momentarily becomes null and void and oil, silver, uranium, gold, tequila distilleries, super lucrative beer companies, people (generally girls between the age of 10 and 16), land... is sold. In Mexico the pseudo-intellectuals yell, "Pinches Gringos" when the truth is that Mexico has always been for sale when the price is right... That's how Mexico has the richest man in the world who controls half of the Mexican GNP... controls less than 50% of the New York Times and now the NYTs doesn't publish anything controversial about Mexico... Imagine that! One of the most important newspapers in the world for being "liberal", now has moved a bit to the right... 

Vitamin D Deficiency, J-Pouch Group Discussion

I was just "diagnosed" with Vitamin D "insufficiency"... I am not IBD, nor Crohns, but Gardner's Syndrome. As for where in the world exists more or less Crohns... It is very dependent upon the documentation and access to information along with the education/training quality of the Medical practitioners in each country. I live in Mexico. I am "American", born in Philadelphia, raised in New Jersey, college educated in Amherst Massachussetts... And living here in Guadalajara, Mexico with FAP/Gardner's/J-Pouch and now "diagnosed" with hypertension and vitamin D "insufficiency". Some of you talk about taking between 5,000 and 50,000 UIs of Vitamin D. Imagine living here in Mexico where the highest dosage found in the farmacies and GNC are 400UIs at a higher price here than the 5,000UIs sold in the U.S. How would you do that? You wouldn't. 

About the lack of elevation of your Vitamin D. Are you/were you taking D2 or D3? D2 is about to be removed from the U.S. market since it 500xs slower at being processed by the human body, if it actually functions. The human body produces D3... GNC U.S sells D3 between 2,000 and 5,000 IUs. GNC Mexico only sells 100 capsul bottles of D2 400IU at the same price as GNC U.S.'s 180 capsule D3 5,000 IU... 

As for malabsorption of Vitamin D and the J-Pouch... The J-Pouch is constructed using the former Ileum, which is the 3rd and last part of the small intestine. Vitamin D is absorbed in the Duodenum and the Jejenum (1st and 2nd parts of the small intestine). So, it's more probable that the IBDs and the Crohns have problems unrelated to the J-Pouch. Granted, the FAPs with Gardner's Syndrome have a risk of problems in the Duodenum... 

As I mentioned, I live in Mexico; a ton of sun from February until November... However, if you live in hot/sunny climates, you may opt for not finding yourself in direct sunlight, since you find yourself hot enough in the shade; I became accustomed to walk on the shady side of the street because my wife (from the mountains of Veracruz) prefers being in the shade... I've never been a sunbather either.

Plus, if you wear sunscreen during the sunny seasons, you will not produce Vitamin D. Today, most people avoid the sun due to fear of skin cancer. Now, after reading all I have read about Vitamin D deficiency, I would be more afraid of the deficiency that can cause up to 18 different cancers, along with kidney failure/ heart disease/heart attacks/anneurisms/strokes due to hypertension caused by Vitamin D deficiency, auto-immune problems, chronic fatigue, Alzheimers/memory problems/depression/nervous disorders, stress fractures due to muscle fatigue, bone weakening/bone deformation/osteoporosis all due to calcium deficiencies: WITHOUT VITAMIN D YOU DO NOT ABSORB CALCIUM.

So, maybe you should risk skin cancer.

Here are the RDA recommendations (although they are considered horribly low and incorrect):

0-10NDs of Vitamin D: Deficiency

10-20 NDs: Insufficiency

30-50 NDs: Normal

400-600 IUs daily requirement.

Now, what I've been reading amongst the health and nutrition specialists and in the exercise magazines such as Runners World where there are many cases of world class runners suffering stress fractures, broken bones and horrible muscle fatigue not knowing that they have a vitamin D count of between 15 and 19, the recommended daily dose is 5,000 IUs (and you can't get that in your diet). What the RDA says is insufficient is actually deficient and puts you at horrible risk. What is considered normal is actually "at risk" or insuffficient. And your numbers should be between 50-70.

I went to a GI for for an upper endoscopy. The GI was the president for the Mexican Association of Gastro Enterologists (one of 3 liver transplanters here in Guadalajara) and even met my "super-star" world leader or pioneer in J-Pouch surgeries Dr. Gorstein of Mount Sinai Hospital in New York. However, my GI told me that the J-Pouch automatically removes the ability to absorb ALL B vitamins; which is not correct and prescribed a B12 injection without prescribing blood tests or knowing my levels, and he told me I didn't need an Upper Endoscopy although 7 years ago I was diagnosed with 2 ulcers in my stomach, gastritis, duodenitis and an inflamed gall bladder due to gall stones (that I diminished with my own self-prescribed dietary change). He also said that I didn't need an ultrasound, althoug I told him of discomfort in the region of the gallbladder and a strange and new discomfort behind my left rib cage/stomach I thought was from the ulcers, but is generally caused by kidney stones... Without his suggestion I went to a laboratory and requested an Ultrasound and blood tests. The ultrasound showed that my gallbladder was normal and only had 3 gallstones (thanks to my diet change plus grapefruit juice and olive oil half hour before breakfast and Coriander seeds soaked in water; very bitter, soy lecithin if I am correct, although that may have just been for my hypertension--it was a long time ago). My kideys are clean; no problems with my spleen nor my pancreas... My B12 was over 2,000! and my Vitamin D was 18.5... The day after injecting myself with the B12, I started experiencing horrible fatigue in my calves, my ankles and the arch of my feet and later on, my left thigh muscle while running. Now I walk/run without my shirt on at midday:-)

The GI sent me to a Cardiologist because of high blood pressure the GI claimed was caused by hypertension of the Kidney. However, kidneys don't cause hypertension; kidney disease is caused by hypertension.

I was NEVER diagnosed with hypertension when living in NYC, nor when I had my surgeries at Mount Sinai Hospital. The cardiologist here in Guadalajara said that I would be on BP medication for the rest of my life. And, although I have problems retaining water due to the Colectomy and then the J-Pouch (I go to the bathroom at least 15 times a day and usually sitting), he prescribed a BP medication (Micardis) that lowers blood pressure and is a diuretic. Now, we all know that diarhea lowers potassium levels. Potassium deficiency raises blood pressure and can cause heart attacks... Vitamin D deficiency also raises blood pressure. So, why didn't he ask for blood tests before prescribing me the medication? and he prescribed the highest dosage. Plus this medication normally is prescribed for people who have recently had angioplasties and had problems with their heart attack BP medication. Own arm had a BP of 170/100, the other had a BP of 160/90. He said that I was in the mid-range, not at heavy risk of heart failure. 

The worst thing was that, without checking my kidneys for kidney stones or kidney disease he suggested that my discomforts were from muscle pain and prescribed a pain reliever banned by the FDA due to high risks of Heart Attacks! What Cardiologist would prescribe a medicine banned in the U.S. because it creates a high risk of Heart Attack?

I have a whole bunch of tests scheduled for the forth to see if the BP meds are causing problems for with my Kidneys and Liver; the next appointment with the Cardiologist is for the 7th to analyze those findings. 

I figure I will do all of that, especially since I want to know how are my urine tests, cholestorol tests and other tests, pay the cardiologist, receive his prescription and suggestions and forget about the BP meds and his office. I will buy a BP monitor, continue with my wonderful diet/cooking, exercize without a shirt on for an hour and a half, take the little Vitamin D suppliments I find here along with Calcium and test myself for Vitamin D in mid to late January... 

I am almost positive that the hypertension is caused by the vitamin D deficiency. But we will see in a month :-)

Ross